


Patchworks

by Terra



Category: Marvel 616, Runaways
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terra/pseuds/Terra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to fit together, in this world and in others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patchworks

In the arching, black breaks of space they dance, circles and circles in their dingy grey starship. The music from the speaker-tubes is strange and strident; it tugs Karolina both leftwards and right. Xavin is kind, beautiful sometimes, and her hands never move lower than her back. She's happy.

***

"How can you _say_ that?"

At first they were sitting on Nico's bed, smiling and laughing and just being for a few sunshine minutes. She told Nico things like the curves of the universe, their first landing on a foreign moon, and Nico talked about all the movies that came out that they didn't have enough money to see. Neither said anything about the kiss, even though the memory reaches them down to their toes.

"I don't know him, Kar. And we've been fooled in the past before, remember?" Nico thinks of Alex, his smile, and the high holy monsters in the middle of their world. "We can't afford it."

"You don't have _any_ idea what she's sacrificed for me. For us. And then you, you—"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Nico interrupts. "But he just whisks you off to space and it's not like he-- like she—has been really falling over backwards being friendly to us."

Karolina stands, makes a movement towards the door. "I'm going out for a walk with Molly. I'll see you when I get back."

***

  
Nico has trouble sleeping, sometimes, in the darkness underground. Muddled, she wanders, bare feet upon cold stone. In the living room Xavin's training, trying to make his (her?) flames burn brighter. He looks back over his shoulder. The fires go out.

"Oh," he says. "It is you."

"Yeah, I, uh." Nico stops. "Trying to burn the place down?"

"There is no other place for me to practice."

"Yeah, okay." There's something strange about the way Xavin moves, the way her muscles connect together, or don't. Nico finds it hard not to watch.

"You do not like me."

"No, I don't." Before Xavin can ask why, Nico stumbles headfirst into her reasonings. "You come from nowhere and pledge yourself to her forever and for what? Honor? Duty? Because you have to, not because of— not because of the things she is."

"Honor and duty, yes," Xavin replies. But then her face goes softer and Nico doesn't know what she sees there. "But I am no longer welcome on Tarnax VII."

"When you leave, I'm the one whose gonna have to stay and watch her suffer," says Nico. "That's why." In the cathedral shadows, with Karolina's face running through her head, she isn't sure if she's lying or not.

***

Xavin has been trained in espionage, like any young recruit to the Imperial Army. There are forms they learn, shapes to take. Ways to tell enemies from friends. A true Skrull warrior can take the place of a cat, or a lampshade, or a love, can hypnotize a target so they never remember. Xavin knows how to do all these things. She has practiced them for years.

But now she is pressed awkwardly against a doorknob, listening to Karolina and Nico make up.

"I'm sorry," the one says, "I shouldn't have said that about Xavin. She does care about you, I know. It's just—I missed you, you know?"

"Yeah. I know."

Xavin could sneak in as a fly or a spider, and neither of them would ever know the difference. Instead, she opens the door a crack, comes in, sits down.

"I am sorry if I am interrupting, but I wanted—"

"No, Xavin, it's great," interrupts Karolina. "I'm glad you're here."

The covers are warm, textured—Xavin thinks the patterns on them must have been stitched by hand. They are all three tracing lines on the cloth, with their eyes and with their fingers. For a moment, they touch.


End file.
